Unknown
by Supergurl1
Summary: The CIA all not as it seems and secrets of the past come to light....
1. Default Chapter

"I'm in"  
  
Sydney Bristow entered an unknown club somewhere in France. The smell of alcohol, sweat and sex assaulting her nostrils.  
  
Dressed in black leather pants, a barely there halter-neck top and a long red wig she couldn't be distinguished from the other bodies dancing on the dance floor. To nearly everyone else there she didn't seem to stand out. Nearly everyone.  
  
Two people watched her as she slipped into a back entrance, which lead to a series of secret passages under the club.  
  
"Mountaineer, do you read me?"  
  
"Copy that, reading you loud and clear."  
  
Her voice echoed in the ear of a tall, lithe figure leaning against the bar. Clad in jeans, a black T-shirt and a leather jacket, this man didn't stand out in the smoky room either. Well, to all but one.  
  
A pair of familiar green eyes watched over the door Sydney had just slipped through.  
  
"Going radio silent."  
  
The voice sounded again.  
  
"Copy that.good luck."  
  
The man muttered silently, turning back to his drink.  
  
Smiling an unknown figure took his distraction as an opportunity, slipping through the door after Sydney.  
  
Unnoticed.  
  
Unwatched.  
  
Unknown. 


	2. A Piece of the puzzle

Sydney quickly, but stealthily, made her way towards the large, steel door at the end of the empty hallway.  
  
Using a code descrambler, in the form of a watch, she broke the electronic code, then pushed open the heavy door to reveal a nearly empty room. The room was some kind of storage room, a thin layer of dust covered every surface in the room, the paint was peeling off the stained walls and all the furniture in it was at least 50 years old.  
  
Swiftly she moved to the left of the room where a broken, antique mirror was hanging on the dirty, stained wall.  
  
*~*  
  
Two feet, clad in back, beaded stilettos stepped over the two unconscious men lying to the cold, concrete floor. The owner of them glancing down at the bodies, a look of admiration flickering in her eyes, before she moved on passed them.  
  
One petite hand sporting long, black painted, nails, came up and pushed open the door which led to the answers. Answers to her past.  
  
*~*  
  
Sydney's hands swept over the intricate carvings of the old, but pristine frame.  
  
Searching.  
  
Searching for the particular notches that would reveal the true purpose of the mirror. The reason that Rambaldi had built it in the first place.  
  
Rambaldi.  
  
A name which she'd come to hate with passion. It all came down to Rambaldi. Mission after mission, going to bazaar places, looking for piece after piece of the puzzle he had left.  
  
In a lot of ways, it was Sloane's obsession with Rambaldi that made him an even more sick and twisted bastard than he already was.  
  
Finally her fingers found their target. The two pieces, from each side of the mirror slipped out of their hiding places. Quickly pulling them out, she placed them into, what seemed to be two holes in the mirror itself. All of a sudden the cracked exterior parted to reveal a hidden compartment, containing a glass cross, about the size of her pinkie finger.  
  
Amazing how something so small and beautiful could release a plague that could wipe out the entire human race.  
  
Pulling out a tiny case from her handbag, Syd placed the cross in it and started the process of closing the mirror again.  
  
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of some movement, and a quiet scraping sound, in the otherwise, dark and still room. Turning around, her eyes swept over the shadowy room for any sign of company. There was none. Or so it seemed.  
  
Shaking it off as nerve, she continued her task. But something didn't seem right. A bad feeling hung in her gut. And something, some kind of intuition was making her senses tingle.  
  
The adrenaline rush from the danger, that her job provided, pumped through her body, heightening her senses. She clutched her handbag tighter in her sweaty hands. There it was again, the faintest scraping against the concrete floor, of the supposedly empty room. Her heart was banging in her ears. Then she knew. There WAS someone there.  
  
Her body stiffened slightly at the realisation that she was being watched. She felt the unknown intruder approach her from behind.  
  
She waited.  
  
Waited for the stranger to make the first move. The longer she pretended to reconstruct the mirror. The more she stood there, waiting, with her heart pumping out of her chest, anticipating the rush of the upcoming fight, the more impatient she grew.  
  
Just as she felt the presence of the intruder right behind her, she span around and was welcomed with a sight she defiantly didn't expect.  
  
There stood a young girl, who couldn't have been older than seventeen. She was tall, with semi-long black hair that fell in waves, tanned skin, high cheekbones and the most intense green eyes.  
  
She was so stunned by the fact her opponent was so young that she didn't have time to react when the young girl threw the first punch.  
  
Bought out of her trance but the stinging of her right cheek, she quickly recomposed herself and retaliated with a punch of her own, aimed at the girl's stomach. It was quickly blocked and the fight began.  
  
They matched each other, blow for blow, getting in a few hits here and there, but nothing powerful enough to do anything but knock the other off a bit. Sydney's eyes scanned the room for something, anything, to help her gain the upper hand. Coming up with nothing, she turned her full attention back to the fight at hand.  
  
The girl's fist flew out to deliver another punch, using this to her advantage Sydney grabbed the girl's upper arm and flipped her over her shoulder, into the wall behind her. The girl hit the wall with a grunt and fell to the ground. Seeing no further movement from her, Sydney walked over to the corner where her purse had been tossed during the fight. Passing the unconscious figure lying on the floor, curiosity got the better of her. There had been something about her face. Something familiar.  
  
Bending down she pushed the hair out of the teenager's face, immediately regretting it when the girl's hand shot out, grabbing her wrist and cuffing it to the leg of the heavy antique table next to them.  
  
Pulling herself off the floor, the young stranger picked up Sydney's purple, glitter covered purse, which contained the Rambaldi cross, and ran a hand through her long hair.  
  
Sydney struggled to free herself as the girl made her way to the door, which lead back to the club. Pausing, the stranger turned around looking down at Sydney, a strange look in her emerald coloured eyes.  
  
"Until we meet again."  
  
She said in Russian, before pressing her lips into her palm and blowing a kiss in Sydney's direction.  
  
"See you soon.... Mum." 


End file.
